dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.i really havent
idk
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
as in
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
its performative
much more tactility
propensity within someone
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
your feed looks like my tumblr
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
and the fake qualifier
She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
but i respect your search
barren land
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
that looks like my instagram account
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
not their contents
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